ACOR Advanced Arabic!

Check us out in the ACOR newsletter, p. 4-7! May we live long and prosper!

Medina-tain of the Decapolis

Jerash and Umm Qais, Jordan

Today we hired a driver and I took Philip north to 2 cities of the Roman Decapolis, the league of 10 cities that were economic and military strongholds on the edge of the Roman Empire in Palestine. I love Petra, and there are so many things there I still haven't done. Still, I find the cities of the north of Jordan more compelling to me. In part, perhaps, it's because I know so much less about them now. Perhaps it's because the mobs of tourists are slightly less. And in the case of Umm Qais, it's definitely the old adage: Location! Location! Location!

From Philip Goes North

Umm Qais

This is my favorite place in Jordan. The view is just amazing: the Yarmouk River Valley, the Syrian Golan, the Israeli Golan, Lake Tiberius (aka Sea of Galilee), the city of Tiberius, Israel, the Jordan River Valley ... you feel like you're standing on top of the world. Add to that the delicious food at the restaurant there, and Philip's fabulous company, and you've got a perfect day! We wandered about in the ruins down the street of columns to the west, too, found the mosaic floor hidden back in the weeds, and some beautiful flowers. This is the best time to visit the northwest of Jordan, because even with the stingy little bit of rain we've gotten this year, the whole Irbid/Ajlun region just explodes with greenery and flowers, like the kind of spring-time I'm used to from the American northeast.

From Philip Goes North

Jerash

Jordanians must have gotten over the little Danish cartoon fiasco, because the Danish-Jordanian archaeology partnership in Jerash seems to be alive and well. Philip and I discovered a number of things that I'm absolutely certain weren't there even as recently as when I came to Jerash with CLS at the end of June. For one, there was this whole Byzantine church next to the Hippodrome and Hadrian's Arch, with this pristine mosaic floor, and I swear it wasn't there before!

Perhaps the most refreshing thing was our timing. We arrived in Jerash in late afternoon, a time at which I'd never visited the Roman ruins there, and I was pleasantly surprised to see a number of Jordanian families lounging in the grass around the park, enjoying the beautiful sunshine and dramatically warmer weather.

From Philip Goes North

Rediscovering Jordan

It's actually been very nice in quite a few ways to be travelling around with Philip (even if people keep mistaking him for my husband!) and doing the tourist thing. Sometimes in Amman, between work and my social life, I almost forget that I'm in Jordan, especially now that my work schedule keeps me from visiting the village. Even cycling with Tareef, while it gets me out of Amman to parts of Jordan I've never seen before, often feels more like California than the Middle East. But with Philip around, I have an excuse to spend a little more money and get out into the country. In fact, our lovely driver Waseem almost has me convinced to sit for the tour guide examinations to become a licensed Jordanian tour guide. I love my job at Bell, but some weeks I feel like I may as well be in Bulgaria or China or anywhere, I use so little Arabic and have so little contact to "real" Jordanian life.

So, please, come visit me in Jordan! Philip, Auntie Viv and my parents will all testify that I'm an excellent trip planner and tour guide, and I only get better with more practice!

Scrapbook Of My Summer

Amman, Jordan

Happy New Year!

I've spent my holiday week working on an electronic scrapbook of my summer Critical Language Scholarship program, and I finally managed to get it onto the Internet where you can all see it! It's a big file, so it takes awhile to load, but I hope it's worth it.

Enjoy!

almost NO degrees of separation!

Amman, Jordan

So, another student in my program, Chris, knew this girl, Heba, who had been a Fulbright Scholar at Smith, teaching Arabic at the Five Colleges. We only met once, and very briefly, during the summer, but we've become friends since. Heba went to Smith with this girl Abby, who's now working here in Amman. As I recall, Abby first came to Jordan as a volunteer teaching English at the Greek Orthodox School in Madaba, which is doing really amazing things I seriously considered becoming part of, and all for the Jordanians who really need it most.

In any case, Abby knows Emily, who's doing this really cool project, "Meet the Foreigners," trying to introduce Jordanians to us odd duck foreigners who've decided to give up what many Jordanians would love to have in America in order to come here for as many different reasons as there are expats. Heba put us all in touch, and I agreed to do an interview today, which I will put up on this blog and on Facebook as soon as it's available.

But it doesn't stop there! Oh, no! The network of expats in Jordan is much more complex than that. Because when I found out that Emily was working in Madaba at the Orthodox School, I realized that she had probably taught with my friend Chris, whom I taught with at the Modern American School. Not only that, but Chris's husband is still teaching at the Greek Orthodox School with Emily. And, of course, Emily and Heba have met through Abby as well.

So Emily, Heba and I met for the fabulous Friday breakfast at Books@Cafe, where we determined that we really have a lot in common, and should do this more often. Then Heba had to go home, and as I was finishing up my latte with Emily, her friend Arnoux showed up. (He's using Books@ as his office for the week, between trips to Lebanon and Iraq.) I recognized him immediately from a concert we went to in the park of the National Gallery for Fine Arts to see Ramallah Underground, where some of the other girls from the CLS Program had a nice chat with Arnoux. (Come to think of it, I saw him again in the crowd at Ramallah Underground's subsequent appearance on the back patio of Books@.) Oh, and Arnoux used to teach at AMIDEAST, and I noticed when I was dropping off my timesheet yesterday that his phone number is still up on the bulletin board in the teachers' lounge. And he gave me some fantastic suggestions for finding my next job!

I could go on, about how a friend of Abby's I met tonight works with my roommate Ryan at his second job, and how another friend of Abby's who also interviewed with Emily tonight was just at the home of the current financial guy at Peace Corps. And then there's the copier repairman I met at AMIDEAST this week who is also the copier repairman for the Peace Corps....

Dialects Matter

Beidha (Little Petra), Jordan

A classmate of mine, Chris Shad, and I were talking to the woman who made the fabulous shrak bread for our Bedu barbecue in Beidha. (Shrak is a white bread, often two feet or more across, and paper thin, baked over a thin, domed metal surface propped over a wood fire, and it's my favorite kind of Jordanian bread.) I, of course, know all the right things to say to village women, and she had plenty to say in return about how wonderful a job Chris did when he tried his hand at making shrak with her.

Chris, however, had a bewildered look on his face. Finally he asked me, "Do you understand a thing she's saying?"

I laughed, and told him the absolute truth. "I understand her better than almost everyone I've spoken to in Amman!"

When I translated the exchange for her, the woman smiled and nodded and said to Chris, "You come and live in my house and make bread for me for a year, and you'll be a pro, and you'll understand me, too!"

The Expert Tour

Rajaf, Beidha and Petra, Jordan

Wow. These past two days have been incredible. You can see the best of my pictures here (and more will be coming).

I won't go into detail here, as the pictures are captioned with just some of the neat new things I learned about Petra, the Nabateans, and the various kingdoms and dynasties that followed them. We've been travelling around the south of Jordan with our program coordinator, Chris Tuttle, who is just finishing his dissertation on the Nabateans of Petra. But dissertating doesn't pay well, so he's also been coordinating our summer program as part of his job at the American Center for Oriental Research. When he's not shepherding around Arabic students (which is only part of his summer workload), he's hard at work helping archaeologists from all over the world come to Jordan and do exciting new projects. He also occasionally escorts media people, like BBC reporters, and the occasional celebrity, like FLOTUS Laura Bush.

This is, of course, not as easy as it sounds. There's a lot of bureaucracy and red tape, a lot of people who don't demonstrate much understanding of the archaeological, historical and cultural worth of many dig proposals, and the economic and logistical obstacles that plague any endeavor in Jordan. And then there are the treasure hunters and the tourists. The more Petra and its surrounds are opened up, the better known and more valuable they become. Since Petra was named one of the New Seven Wonders of the World about a year ago, tourism has leapt up 68%. This is great for the Jordanian economy, but it means that the archaeological information enshrined in the rocks and soil of Petra will be erased at a far faster rate. When I suggested to Chris that the Lonely Planet tour guide's entry on Petra needed to be updated, and maybe I should rewrite it with his help and split the proceeds with him, he said, "Great! Write, 'Don't bother. Not worth the trip.'" On the other hand, he'll also be the first to admit that more tourism makes it easier to get the grants to do the archaeology!

Actually, it's economics as much as archaeology that motivates Chris Tuttle, and this is perhaps one of the most amazing things about this trip for me, more than the sheer glut of information we got about dead people.

You'll see a picture in my album captioned "Chris Tuttle knows every Bedu in Petra." This is not much of an exaggeration. Chris has been in Petra every summer for eight years, and more frequently since taking the job at ACOR in Amman. While many archaeologists come and learn to say please and thank you to a few faces they recognize and go home, Chris has made a real effort to get to know the community. He seems to know everyone by name. Though he claims to speak virtually no Arabic, he speaks more than many Peace Corps Volunteers I knew spoke after two years in the village. And last night, while our group was having dinner with some local Bedu after our tour of Beidha (Little Petra), Chris told me that one of his primary motivations behind opening Beidha to excavations was to give some source of income to the families that lived in and around Beidha, whom he had befriended in his time in the area.

A Few Updates

In fact, Chris Tuttle knows the people I was hoping to see in Petra, both of whom were extraordinarily helpful when I came to Petra with Auntie Viv, and with my parents. Unfortunately, I didn't see Shaher (I think that was his name), who served Auntie Viv and I tea in his brother's shop when we were very cold, and gave us the best advice for seeing the sunset in Petra.

I did go back to Jeff's Bookshop, where Auntie Viv and I bought our cookbooks, and where I arranged cars for she and I as well as my parents and I to take us back to Amman by the scenic route. When Auntie Viv and I were arranging our car and commenting on how amazing the shopkeeper's English, German, Spanish and Japanese were, we learned that one of his brothers, Jeff, for whom the shop was named, was in Denver, Colorado, getting brain surgery for a malignant tumor. I asked about Jeff at the shop this time around, and got more details from Chris Tuttle. The operation was temporarily successful, and Jeff came back looking hale and on the way to recovery (I saw the pictures myself!), but after about 6 months he suddenly declined and passed away. Allah yarHamuhu.

Me and the Fishes

Aqaba, Jordan

It's been a great summer, but I find myself very tired and quite nervous about my new job as a second grade teacher. I really love the people I've been here with, and the circumstances of our stay, but I didn't have true introvert time, not a day completely alone without any human contact, for more than 2 months, and it's been starting to wear on me. As we arrived in Aqaba this afternoon, I could already feel myself getting crabby and unpleasant, particularly when there was all this wavering back and forth as to whether we really wanted to go to the Royal Diving Club or not.

Eventually, most of us did go, and it was exactly what I needed!

I don't think I've been so happy to be in the water since I was about 10 and would stay in Grandma's pond till I was literally purple. Snorkelling in the Red Sea was a more intense introvert time than I've had in a very long time. Just me and the water. You can't hear anything, you can't see any people more than 10m away, and you can't talk to them anyway. You have the fish and the coral to keep your attention, who make no demands and no judgements of you.

When I developed goosebumps, I got out to lay in the sun and warm up, but I couldn't take it for long. Too much chatter, too many eyes. I'm so glad, though, that I got back in the water, because just as the goosebumps were starting to get to me again, something had changed about the light, making the prismatic little ripples of light on the sea floor glow golden. Suddenly there were fish everywhere, with their unbelievable bright colors. Fish that I'd been trying to get a look at under ledges or in the fan coral all day were suddenly in plain view, with their enormous, light-sensitive eyes. Some new fish, fat colorful ones longer than my forearm and outstretched hand, had come up from deeper, darker waters. It was incredibly beautiful, peaceful and restorative.

Quote of the Day:
"I just saw an unfortunate Eighties fish next to a more stylish Seventies fish. No, really! One was neon blue with neon pink stripes, the other was a nice yellow and brown."
--Reema Hijazi

I've Still Got It!

Amman, Jordan

I was beginning to wonder if I would ever learn Arabic well enough to be a simultaneous interpreter of Arabic, which is my current career goal, or even if I could still pull off a career in interpreting at all, but today I proved to myself that I've still got it!

We had a really special field trip today to Raghadan Palace, the seat of power (literally! We saw the throne) and oldest of Jordan's royal palaces, where we were treated to a tour (in Arabic, of course) of the palace. We were accompanied by an external auditor for the Critical Language Scholarship program, a delightful linguist who, however, speaks no Arabic, and so I asked her if she might be interested in a little translation. She was, of course, so I went right ahead. I was a little slow at first, very out of practice, but by the end of the tour, I knew that I had it back.

Not only can I still interpret, but when the subject matter is fairly familiar, I can even intepret Arabic. Another year or two here in the Arab world, a summer or two in Germany, and I'll be ready for the Monterey Institute!

HJ for Lunch!

Madaba and the Dead Sea, Jordan

Today was our third group field trip, altogether with the Beginners and Intermediate students. You know what's great about these field trips? When you're travelling in a group of 50, you're going to look like a tourist no matter what you wear, so I feel free to wear my sleeveless shirts and tight pants despite the presence of Arab Muslims. I don't mind dressing conservatively most of the time; I think it's important to respect the cultural norms of your surroundings. At the same time, it's so bloomin' hot here, it's nice to get out of the long sleeves once in a while!

When we got to St. George's Church in Madaba, there were flyers up that the Orthodox School next door was looking for native speakers to teach English in the fall, and as I was scribbling down the contact information, the souvenier shopkeeper suggested that I just go over the school and talk to them. The director wasn't there, but I did talk to a woman from the school's administration, gave her my name and number, and she said the director would be in touch. Just in case, I've just now emailed him my resume.

We also went out to the Madaba Mosaic School, which is a really cool place; I wish I'd gone before. They have all kinds of handcrafts, from painted ostrich eggs and jewelry to clothing and, of course, mosaics, and almost a quarter of their artisans are disabled, many of them homebound.

And then it was time for the one thing you must do when in Madaba: lunch at Haret Jdoudna! Everyone I know who's been there agrees, it's the best restaurant in Jordan, in terms of the food, which is nouveau Lebanese, and the atmosphere. And, of course, HJ has real sentimental value for me. We went there fairly frequently in training, and then again when Scott and Anyess were living in Madaba. I've taken Auntie Viv and my parents there. Most of all, I suppose, there are lots of things about Madaba that remind me of Oren.

We also went to the Dead Sea and swam at the Dead Sea Spa Hotel. This time I remembered not to shave my legs the day or two before the trip, so I was able to stand going into the Dead Sea itself, and playing in the mud. And, of course, playing in the regular pool, too, because there are some places that the public shower just can't reach to get off the salt!

Even if it was 44 Celsius, it was a great day!

Change the Subject!!

Amman, Jordan

If we never have another class discussion about marriage again, it will be too soon!

For the past two days, our literature teacher, Manal, has been asking our opinions on the roles of the partners in a marriage. She agrees to a large to degree with the text on marriage we've read by 19th century Egyptian Sheikh Tahtawi, which says that the husband is the Prime Minister of the family, and the wife is the Interior Minister. This was controversial enough, inasmuch as it seemed to suggest that the wife's influence was restricted by the walls of the home, though Manal tried her best to point out that the Interior Minister is engaged with plenty of international issues.

My classmate Ann got really inflamed when Manal said she believed that, while the wife's opinion was important and should be discussed, the husband should have the first and last word in the family. It has been the subject of intense debate for two days, abetted by opinions by other students, ranging from liberal Muslim to conservative Christian to Muslim convert and in between, with everyone determined to convince the rest.

Though I have been doing my best to stay out of the conversation, Manal keeps saying, "Maryah will agree with me! She knows how the Eastern woman thinks!" but not (thankfully!) giving me any opportunity to affirm or deny. Then, today, Galaal kept saying, "Let Maryah speak! I want to hear Maryah's opinion!" even though I was very carefully keeping my hands in my lap and my head down.

I hate this conversation, and I avoid this topic whenever I can. There's a good bit of the Western feminist in me, though not as much as Ann, and sometimes it bothers me how deferential wives I've known here can be to their husbands. When my Arabic teacher Wijdan used to say, "We'll walk over to the neighbor's house, if Nusri gives us permission," it would just grate on my nerves. On the other hand, Nusri almost always said yes, and always had a good reason to say no, and eventually I learned to hear Wijdan's qualification as my mother's "I'll just let your father know where we'll be."

In any case, it's clear to me that opinions on the roles of husbands and wives is not anything that I can change with logic. At best, I can give examples of how, in my family, it tends to be my mother who's the President, and my father who's the Secretary of Labor and/or Secretary of State. Or of my Girl Scout leader's husband, a career Marine who, when invited somewhere or asked to help with a project, always replied, "I'll have to check with the Boss," meaning his wife.

I learned a long time ago, probably sometime in middle or high school when my evangelical classmates were preaching at me at every opportunity, that there are some topics better left alone. In Jordan, and probably in most of the Middle East, this is probably one of them. Certainly, Queen Noor and Queen Rania have managed to ruffle plenty of feathers in Jordan by calling for reforms to women's status in law and practice.

Eventually, I couldn't help but step in, though, with my favorite quote from My Big Fat Greek Wedding, in which the mother says to her daughter, "Don't worry. Your father is the head of the family, but I'm the neck, and I tell him where to go!"

Unfortunately, it did not quite end the conversation as I had hoped.

Free Birthday Drinks!

Amman, Jordan

A whole bunch of us went out last night to celebrate my birthday with dinner at the Blue Fig, which I can't believe I never visited when I was here with Peace Corps. The food is delicious, the atmosphere really fantastic.... (It's an expat restaurant/bar in Abdoun, the richest part of Amman ... which is probably why I didn't go as a Volunteer, but I'm a bona fide tourist in Jordan this time!)

Then I remembered that the last time I had a birthday in Jordan, and Anyess was not only having her birthday but also celebrating her engagement, we got free drinks at the irish pub in the Dove Hotel. I remember the Dove Bar as a dark, crowded, dingy little hole-in-the-wall bar/dance club dive, but I remember it fondly, especially when I was getting free birthday drinks! (Also, it doesn't have a cover charge!) So we decided to round out the evening with some dancing at the Dove Bar.

Wow. Has it ever changed! The dance floor is gone, with its colored lights, the whole place has been repainted, the bathrooms were cleaner.... It's a pretty respectable bar now, which explains this rumor I've heard that Peace Corps Volunteers are no longer welcome there... (though I've not heard why!). But there are still free birthday drinks, and at the end of a large, electric blue birthday drink, we decided we were going to dance anyway, and by the time we left, it was just like old times!

Hooray for the Passive!

Amman, Jordan

Finally, I found a tutor who didn't change the subject when I said I wanted to learn how to conjugate Arabic verbs in the passive voice! And he is a very good teacher, too. While I can appreciate that most of the people in the group need more work on listening and speaking in Arabic, I've got that down pretty good, especially compared to my reading and writing skills, and I was really hoping that this program would focus a little more on pen-and-paper skills!

After my semester in Tuebingen (Germany), for some time I said that I aspired to someday be a nerd like my friend "Molly the Rhodes Scholar," to have her work ethic and patience for study and detail, to be writing or co-writing papers that earned me scholarships to present at conferences in exotic locales like, say, Rome. I was going to be a professor in my ivory tower with my little circle of admiring students, etc., etc.

Then I joined the Peace Corps, which, as I was saying to someone in the group yesterday, I don't consider a "real" job because it's so much more intense than any real job, with the long hours, the language and cultural barriers, the lack of amenities like cheddar cheese (damn the Danish media!) and tank tops (depending on where you're posted). In the Peace Corps, despite all its frustrations and disappointments, from time to time I produced real, immediate results (and hopefully long-term ones, too) that made other people's lives better.

When I got to grad school, academia had lost almost all its appeal to me. I didn't want to be a nerd in my ivory tower. That's great for the Mollys of the world, and lots of other people I know who find real satisfaction in academic pursuits. But I myself couldn't help but feel that all I did was sit and read and write and talk, but I didn't DO anything, and what results I had were for my own benefit. It seemed selfish. Sure, I needed those two years of grad school to be qualified for really effective work in that future "real" job, in order to make significant positive impacts on other people's lives, but I felt trapped in that ivory tower.

Now, though, I wonder if it was the academics that frustrated me, or the departmental politics. I wonder because here in Amman, where I have no responsibilities but to go to class and sit for hours at my homework, I've become a virtual shut-in. It seems like all I do is study and sleep, and I'm really happy doing it!

As Dad would surely point out, it's all relative!

Wish you were here....

Amman, Jordan

Today we took a bus tour of Amman, including a tour of the Amman Citadel. Very little seems to have changed outwardly in the city, though I've heard through the program and from Jennifer that inflation is incredibly high in almost all sectors of life, and poverty levels are rising rapidly. It was a little weird to be here in this big group of Americans who hadn't yet had any of the cultural training that we got in Peace Corps Pre-Service Training, who have mostly been to the big cities of the Middle East before, and many of them to Amman itself, but have not been prepared for village life, dress and propriety like we had been by the time the J7s got our bus ride around Amman.

But probably the weirdest thing was just being there on the Amman Citadel, in such familiar surroundings, without the familiar faces I'd been there with before. No Jennifer, no Naureen, Jeremy or Audra, no Sultan or Samiir.... Perhaps it was because I spent all that time last week (was it just last week?) trying to make prints of Auntie Viv and Oren's pictures of the Amman Citadel, but it seemed that all I could think about as I wandered around up there was when I had been to the Amman Citadel with the two of them. I would look around me and think, That's where Auntie Viv took that picture of Oren and I that I love so much, or That's where Oren took that picture of our shadows, or If I just went around that corner, I'd find the medeival squatter toilet Auntie Viv photographed me on, or That's the relief on the floor that Oren took that really neat, artsy photo of. It's funny, really, that Auntie Viv took much clearer pictures, and I had a lot of them in mind, but it was more Oren's pictures I remembered, the grainy, unfocussed shots made with his PDA. Maybe you're right, Oren, and the candid shots, the unplanned moments are the best.

Made it!

Amman, Jordan

Well, after a grueling eleven hours in the air and thirteen of layover in Frankfurt, we all made it safe and sound to Amman, Jordan! We're on our way out to do placement tests today, so you'll have to wait for further updates, but I'm hoping to get things posted here every two or three days, so keep in touch!